Deepest Darkness in Brightest Light
by Lady Mear
Summary: It is 2592. The war is lost. In a last desperate attempt to save the world, Seras Victoria is sent back to the beginning to try again. Slash, Het, AxWxS IxOC


**Deepest Darkness in Brightest Light**

**Authors Notes: First, I have no clue what year Hellsing is meant to be sent it. I picked 1998-2000 because if seems the appropriate time for 'Millennium' to attack. This story starts shortly after the Valentine Brother's attack, on a random FREAK hunt and is mostly Manga based. When and where I use references to the anime it will be obvious what I am getting at and will fit into the story. Any character not recognised from Hellsing can be blamed on me. This story will contain slash and het. Please remember that this is fanfiction, so don't take it too seriously. Pairing are AxSxW and IxOC. Future Perfect: Angel of Death can be taken as a prequel to this. Please review and most importantly enjoy.**

**Chapter 1**

_Old London, 2592 AD_

The night was dark, the only light from distantly burning fires. A shriek or a howl broke the tension riddled silence at seemingly random intervals. The ruined city stood still, shrouded in shadows and the bitter, choked stillness of those who dared not speak. A place that has once stood as a symbol of man's ingenuity was now the playground of the damned. Spray painted onto a wall, was an almost forgotten emblem and a creed beneath it. Some said it was written in blood:

"_In the name of God, impure souls of the living dead shall be banished into eternal damnation, Amen."_

Bold words: The dictum of the last organisation to fall to the New Millennium; Hellsing. Whispers at mid-day, when the sun freed the people for a few moments from their fear told stories of them and claimed that they still fought from the shadows in darkest night. Their names were whispered in the prayers of the dying… _Alucard, Seras Victoria, Walter Dornez, Intergral Hellsing, Vladimir Hellsing, Andrew Huntingdon, Alexander Anderson, Pip Bernadotte, Peter Ferguson, Martin Lake-Windsor, Vivian Carman, Lawrence Anderson. _The litany went on.

Long ago, forgotten men and women whose exploits lived on in hero's tales. A shadow passed across the words and a figure walked past.

The woman walked through the ruined city with wolf cautious grace. She was dressed in heavy black boots, black combats and a purple corset with a black cross on the front. A black jacket was wrapped around her arm, obviously concealing something in her hand. Waist length blonde hair hung in a loose plait. Sunglasses concealed her eyes, even in the darkness, the reflective lenses showing everything around her.

Dropping to her knees at the staccato sound of gunfire in the distance, she pulled a gun from a black holster almost completely hidden at her side. An unneeded breath hissed through her fangs as she watched the semi clear path behind her. Sure that the gunfire had nothing to do with her, she rose to her feet and set off again, slowly making her way towards the building that was her destination.

It had once been a bank. Huge doors guarded its entryway. They had a long time ago been reinforced steel, but had quickly given out under supernatural strength. Now they were concrete, enforced with titanium on the inside and blessed silver on the outside. They weighted enough to make moving them difficult, even for a vampire. That was the point. The woman paused at one side of the door and leaned close to the wall. A murmured word left her mouth, barely audible to a human and a moment later, one of the doors swung ponderously open.

The woman entered and the doors swung shut behind her. Immediately twenty guns lined onto her from the walkways surrounding the entrance hall and she stilled.

"Race?" a voice asked.

"It's me. Born to darkness."

Another voice responded, "To serve the Light"

'Race' replied "Protect humanity"

"From their own stupidity." A figure stepped out of shadows and slowly lowered the gun he was holding as the young woman smiled at him in delight.

"Dray, I got it!" She unwound her jacket and the metal plates inside it from her arm and held out the concealed hand. In the palm of her hand rested a small glowing bar. As quickly as she showed it, she covered it again, making sure the plates completely surrounded it, aware of the damage the small bar could do.

"What took so long?" The man identified as Dray said, coming completely out of the shadows. Like her he was dressed in black boots and combats, but with a red shirt over a black T-shirt. A black leather duster fell almost to the floor behind him. Red tinted sunglasses covered his eyes.

She took the two steps needed to be standing right in front of him and then said softly, "You can't phase with it. Upsets the portals somehow."

Dray raised an eyebrow; then smirked at her and turning around, headed deeper into the building. Race sighed once and then followed.

They made their way down the stairs unto what had once been the vaults section of the bank until they came to a locked door. Dray put his hand onto the scanner beside it and said clearly "Adrac Duvall". The door opened and he stepped through.

Race waited until the door had closed again and then put her hand onto the scanner, "Erica Savitari"

Through the door a long corridor stretched out on front of them. They made their way further in, waving at the few people who called to them through open doors until they came to one in particular. There was a cross painted onto it and thorns circled the cross.

Dray knocked on the door, "Lawrence?"

"What?"

"Race is back."

The door opened with the metal on metal grind of rusted hinges and the two people stepped into the darkness. Once the door closed behind them, a small candle appeared at the centre of a table with a hunched figure on the other side of it, "Take off those damned glasses, abomination, I know what you are." There was still the faintest hint of an Italian accent in the voice and despite the insult, the words held warmth.

"Of course, Judas Priest." Dray reached up and pulled his sunglasses off, the light reflecting on his red eyes. The glasses turned to shadow and drifted away. With a snort at the melodrama, Race also lowered hers.

The man called Lawrence shot a half hearted glare at Dray and then looked at Race, holding out his hand. Without any of the fear she had shown when she first flashed the bar, Race handed it over to him, dropping it quite willingly into his hand. "Are we sure this will work?"

"No." Lawrence responded, "But we have lost this war. And that is one thing we cannot afford to do. Millennium won't end at the end of this Millennium, Race; they will keep going and going. Mankind no longer has the power to stop them. Therefore they must be stopped before they became unstoppable."

"I know that" the girl muttered as she wandered around, gently kicking the wall to emphases her point, "But it's _me_ that has to do this, so forgive me, Father, if I'm a little prissy about using a _Holy Spell_."

Dray sniggered and Lawrence flashed a smile at the grumbling girl.

"It should be ready by tomorrow night, Race. If you want to spend some time with any of the men, you had better hurry."

Race nodded to Dray, stuck in tongue out at Lawrence and left them together.

Lawrence frowned at the other man, "They're beginning to suspect, aren't they? That's why you're pushing to go ahead with this now?"

Dray frowned and then shrugged, "They always suspect. The myth of failed experiments has worked before and it will work again." He ran a hand through his hair and then said, "There is a traitor. I don't think the vaults will be safe for much longer and there is nowhere else for us to go. You are right, Lawrence, more right then you realise when you said we have lost the war."

"What are you dancing around?"

"We're the only group left. All the others have been destroyed from the _inside_. When we fall and fall we will; there will be no one left to oppose Millennium."

"Lord in Heaven", Lawrence stumbled backwards; "Does anyone…" he trailed off, unable to finish.

"Race, me and now you. This must work, Lawrence, or humanity is lost."

"It will work."

AXWXS

_London, 1999 AD_

Seras Victoria dived behind a nearby wall and grunted as she hit the ground hard, the Hallconnon clattering to the ground beside her. Her side ached from where she had taken a shot; her left leg was practically useless and would remain so for at least a few more minutes. What was meant to be an easy initiation for some new recruits was fast becoming a disaster of epic proportions. There should have been one, reasonably young FREAK and a handful or two of ghouls. Instead there were over half a dozen FREAKS, one of which seemed to be relatively old and knew what he was doing. And there was more then a couple of handfuls of ghouls. In fact, it looked like there were at least a hundred. Of course, there was also her headache, which was not helping.

The headache had hit a few minutes ago and was slowly getting worse. Groaning at the bad timing, she stumbled to her knees and tried to brace herself enough to fire the Hallconnon. Another shot hit her knee sent her back onto the ground. A FREAK appeared above her, leering down, "What do we have here, then? One of 'Ellsing's pets?"

Seras' eyes widened as she felt the headache suddenly disappear and be replaced by something building inside her. Everything stopped. And then exploded.


End file.
